A Man Of Honor
by ChainOfPaperclips
Summary: Killian reveals to Emma the information Pan related to him about Neal's survival, and both of them struggle to figure out where exactly Killian fits into Emma's life afterward.
1. Chapter 1

Killian watched David retreat from the campfire with Mary-Margaret at last, their hands entwined, whispering to each other-of what, he could not imagine, nor did he care. Regina had retired some time before, and he had been waiting for what felt like an eternity for Emma's parents to take their own leave. David shot him one glance over his shoulder, and Killian waved his hook in sarcastic acknowledgment, unable to help himself. The prince seemed to frown, although the expression was so fleeting Killian could not be certain. Shrugging a shoulder, he turned his attention back to the crackling fire in front of him. David had little to worry about now. Pan had seen to that.

Eyeing Emma surreptitiously, he struggled to utter the words that he had contemplated all day. Reaching instinctively for his flask of rum, he uncorked the bottle and lifted it to his lips. Hesitating as it came into focus again, he lowered the bottle and replaced the cork. Damn Pan, he thought, stashing the bottle back inside his coat. Damn him for everything.

"Someone spit in your rum?"

He looked up, startled to hear Emma speak. Since their arrival in Neverland, he had been the one to initiate most of their conversations. At any other time, under any other circumstances, he would have welcomed such initiative on her part. Now it only frustrated him, for any interest she might have developed in getting to know him in the future would be dashed the moment he related to her the news that Pan had dropped into his lap regarding Neal.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked, trying to recover his wits.

"Your rum. I've never seen you take it out and put it back again without taking a drink. You act like someone spit in it when you passed it around today."

"Ah," he said, leaning back slightly as he shifted position, "well perhaps I've been a bit distracted."

A corner of her mouth quirked upward into the ghost of a smile. Gods, that smile. Even a fraction of it was dazzling in its brilliance. And worth more than all the treasure the giant had stored in his lair. "Is that a compliment?"

His heart skipped a beat. Was Emma flirting with him? No, it couldn't be. But then, hadn't she responded in kind to his flirting with that kiss earlier today? She had sworn it was a one-time thing, the implication being that it was solely as a thank you for saving David's life, but Killian had remained hopeful that it might develop into something more significant, whatever Emma insisted. Until Pan had appeared again, that is. Cursing the evil little shit in his mind, he steeled himself for what must be done.

"Don't take this the wrong way, love," he began, "but I've been having a think about something else." The soft smile evaporated, and his heart shuddered at the thought of what he must say next. "After you left, Pan appeared."

She stiffened visibly at the mention of her son's captor. "What did he want?"

He inhaled deeply. "He told me Neal is still alive, Emma. And he is here on this island."

Her expression became angry. "Is this about the kiss?" she hissed. "Are you playing games because you're angry that it was a one-time thing?"

"And what would I have to gain by such a thing?" he replied, remaining calm by sheer force of will, when all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and prove to her that the last thing he wanted to do was play games that would hurt her. "I'm telling you the truth."

"He's lying," she argued, taking another tack.

"No," he said, "I've known Pan a long time. He never lies. He might twist, bend, or mangle the truth in pursuit of his own goals, but he doesn't lie. If he says Neal is alive and on this island, then you can guarantee that he is."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Wouldn't you want to know?" he countered.

She was silent for a long time after that, staring into the fire as if her life depended on remaining riveted to this one small detail. Her expression was difficult to read, but Killian almost thought she looked frightened. "We have to get him back," she said at last, her expression never wavering from the fire for a moment.

"Aye," he answered, disappointed that she refused to look at him. The fact that he had expected Emma to distance herself from him all the more, to restore the walls he had been chipping at so relentlessly, did not make it hurt any less. "We will."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: First of all, for those who have read my story, and/or read reviews, thank you very much! A couple of things: First, I intended to get this next chapter out much sooner than I did, but I got stuck trying to figure out the logistics of the ambush, but then I realized that they didn't *need* to ambush anyone, because the answer was right there all along! So sorry about the delay. Second, I was originally going to write this fic solely from Hook's POV, but I got to thinking about it, and I decided to alternate chapters between Hook and Emma's POVs, because I think it's important not only to show Hook proving himself more and more as a man of honor, but also to see that growth and realization from Emma's viewpoint.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this latest chapter!

Emma crouched in the foliage, staring at the two cages that hung suspended from the canopy of trees above, waiting to take action. She hadn't slept a wink the night before, plagued by the tangle of thoughts and emotions that Hook's revelation had instigated. How could Neal possibly be in Neverland? Surely Hook had been mistaken; Pan had tricked him somehow, despite their past association, whatever it was. Neal couldn't be alive. It couldn't be him there in one of the cages. It couldn't, because she simply could not deal with that right now, on top of everything else. This had to be a trap. She had tried to convince Mary-Margaret and David of it, after she'd shared the startling information with them this morning. Pan simply wanted to trick them, to keep them going on a wild goose chase. It was a distraction, that was all. Something else to keep her from her son.

Surprisingly, Emma had found an ally in Regina in her assessment of the situation. Whatever their differences-and they were vast-on the point of rescuing Henry, they agreed. Henry needed to be their priority. Hook had, for reasons Emma could not fathom at all, sided with her parents. Neal was as familiar with Pan as he was, the pirate argued, perhaps more so. And he would therefore have valuable information and insights into Pan and his weaknesses. Neal, Hook insisted, was an ally they needed, if they wanted to recover Henry...even if it meant playing into Pan's game for a short time.

In the end, Emma and Regina could do little else but agree.

Irritated again at Hook siding against her-Just what the hell was he playing at with all of this, anyway?-she gripped the hilt of her sword more tightly. What insights into Pan could Neal offer that Hook already didn't? And why the hell wasn't she happier at the thought of being reunited with Neal? She loved him; she'd always loved him. As she had admitted to her parents in a moment of overwhelming emotion and stress, she had never stopped. So why didn't she want it to be him inside one of those cages? Neal loved her. She loved him. Now they might be reunited, if Pan's information to Hook had been accurate. They had the chance to start again with each other.

But did she want to start a relationship with Neal all over again? Emma pondered this question while she waited, mentally ticking off all the reasons she should consider giving him another chance. There were more than she'd thought there would be, for all the pain and bitterness she felt toward him. But were they enough to outweigh the negative points against him?

Leaving her alone and pregnant, serving the jail time that should have been his, and all on the say-so of a wooden puppet that was, by all story accounts, a well-known liar? That alone was bad enough, but-

Branches snapped and shifted as the dark-haired lost boy wandered into view. "All right, I'm here," he said with a sullen voice. "What do you want?"

Regina stepped directly in front of the boy, her smile predatory. "Well considering our location, I think you know exactly what we want. So get to it."

"Get it yourself, if you're so powerful," Devin sneered as Emma slinked forward into his view, her cutlass drawn. Mary Margaret stepped out of the brush behind the lost boy, her bow drawn, an arrow nocked and pointed straight at his chest. David and Hook appeared, too, flanking the boy with their own weapons drawn.

"And alert Pan to our plans?" Regina arched an eyebrow. "Oh surely you don't think we're that stupid," she retorted with a disdainful look. She reached into the pouch that held his heart. "Now, you can open those cages, or you can writhe on the ground in agony. Your choice," she said, holding up his heart with a smile that was downright macabre in its very brilliance.

The boy twisted slightly, eyeing all of them in turn. Birds chirruped overhead, competing with the insects for dominance of sound within the jungle. Emma smacked a bug crawling across her arm and waited for his answer.

"I'd do what she wants, if I were you, mate," Hook advised, as the boy's gaze settled on him in particular. "I understand she fed dozens of children to a blind witch just trying to retrieve an apple. Imagine what she'll do to you to retrieve her son."

Emma blinked. Where the hell had Hook heard that story? But even as she wondered, the answer was too obvious to ignore. Regina. She was the only one who could have told him. But when? And why? Frowning, she glanced from Hook to Regina and narrowed her eyes. When had they become buddies?

"If I do this for you and risk my life, I want something in return this time."

"No," Regina answered instantly, even as Mary-Margaret replied, "What do you want?"

The two women glared at each other over the boy's head.

"Absolutely not," Regina said emphatically. "I don't negotiate with the people who kidnapped my son."

"But if we can resolve this peacefully-" Mary-Margaret began.

"Oh save it!" the queen snapped. "This is Neverland, not the Enchanted Forest. Your cloying optimism and naive trust aren't going to work in your favor, here. These people may look like children, but they are savage killers. He is trying to trick us. This is a trap."

"Regina is right," Emma spoke up. "We have absolutely no reason to trust any of them."

"Well," the queen said caustically, "someone with sense. Maybe there's hope for you after all." She looked at Mary-Margaret. "Wish I could say the same for others."

Mary-Margaret's expression was affronted. "How dare-"

"Enough," Hook interrupted. He leaned against a tree, shadows obscuring the top portion of his face. "The more time that we waste arguing, the stronger Pan's hold over Henry grows." Silence greeted this assessment for several moments as they all realized the truth of his words. The buzzing of insects grew louder. He spoke again, "What do you say, Emma? What course do we plot?"

Conflicted, she glanced from Regina to Mary-Margaret. Although the queen's estimation of the situation made the most sense, given what they knew of Pan and his Lost Boys from their actions thus far, she hated to set the precedent for using dark magic, fear, and intimidation to get Henry back. And yet, there was a part of her, a part from her past that she tried to keep locked away, that would do anything to get Henry back. Even selling her soul to Pan himself, if that was what it took to gain Henry's freedom from Neverland.

To which part of herself should she listen?

"We're waiting, Savior," Regina snapped.

Ignoring her, Emma turned to Hook. "You know Pan and the Lost Boys better than anyone here. And I can tell by the way he looks at you, that you two have more than a passing familiarity with each other. What do you think?"

He scratched his chin with the tip of his hook. The gesture was casual, but Emma caught the way Devin's eyes widened slightly when he did it. "Hear him out," Hook answered. "If you don't like his terms, or you simply can't trust him, Regina can sort the situation out for us." He smiled brightly at the evil queen. "She's rather talented like that."

Frowning again, Emma looked from the queen to the pirate. "What do you want?" she said hoarsely, turning to the Lost Boy.

"A home," he answered.

"I thought you said that all the Lost Boys were here by choice," Regina said, placing a hand on her hip. She gazed at the boy with unguarded suspicion. "That each of you wanted to be here."

"We are," he answered. "But not all of us want to be here because we care for Pan's company."

Emma snorted. The idea that anyone could like Pan's company was so rich, it might have been hysterical under less dire circumstances.

"Go on," David encouraged, when Devin seemed hesitant to say more. "What's the real reason that you choose to be here?"

"Wendy," he whispered. "I stayed because of Wendy."

"As in...Wendy Darling?" Emma echoed. "Big-fan-of-Peter-Pan _Wendy_?"

Devin shook his head. "No. More like the other way around. Promise that you will get Wendy and me off the island and give us a home, and I will do as you ask."

"May I _remind_ you that you will do as we ask, anyway?" Regina said, crossing her arms. "You know, the whole crushing up your heart thing."

"Crush it if you like," he said, "but if you squeeze too much and kill me, Pan will know. And he will punish you, using Henry. That doesn't help you get those cages open, does it?"

"Boy," Hook said, "what are you playing at? What's your interest in this Wendy-girl? And why have I never heard of her before?"

The Lost Boy locked gazes with the pirate for a moment. "Will you do it or not?" he asked.

"We're hardly in any position to make promises about getting off the island when we can't do it without Pan's permission," David pointed out.

"Your Neal could get you off the island," the boy pointed out, looking at Emma. "I understand he's done it before. I free him, and you have the means to get off this island and take Wendy and me with you, after you rescue Henry."

"And just who is supposed to give you this home?" Emma wondered.

Mary-Margaret lowered her bow. "David?" she spoke up, looking at her husband. All eyes turned to the golden-haired prince.

His expression was startled. "I...well, uh-"

"I'll do it," Hook spoke up, shocking everyone. Emma stared. "At least until we return to Storybrooke, and they can find a more permanent family of their choosing."

"Why you?" David asked, recovering enough to speak again.

"Because we have a history together. I know him and what he's capable of." He looked at Devin with a hardened expression. "And he knows I don't need magic to make his life unpleasant if he double-crosses us." He lifted his hook to emphasize the point. "Do I, Tootles?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Tootles?" Emma echoed after a moment of stunned silence. Her brow furrowed as she absorbed this information, and she shook her head. Long, blonde hair swayed from side to side, and Killian's breath caught in his throat for a moment. Visions of that blonde hair being mussed in another heated kiss, or flung over heaving shoulders as he lowered her into his bed swam through his mind, and he shook his own head to clear it. Now was certainly not the time to indulge such fantasies.

Blinking rapidly, he managed, "Aye."

She groaned. "Unbelievable," she muttered as her parents moved closer to the lost boy and began speaking with him in low tones. Regina stalked over in hot pursuit, and Killian was glad for his own part that it was not a conversation in which he was involved. "Am I seriously the only one around here with a single, non-storybook identity?" She wiped at the beads of sweat on her forehead.

"No storybook identity? Are you sure about that, love?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Perhaps your story simply hasn't been told yet."

"Very funny," she glared.

He glanced over at Regina, Mary-Margaret, David, who were haggling over the final arrangements with the dark-haired lost boy. "He hasn't used the name for years," he offered. "Not since the magic left Neverland and warped Pan."

She tilted her head with a frown playing at the corners of her mouth. "Like you?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You know," she shrugged, slipping her hands into the back pockets of her trousers. Fascinated, he watched her movements with a keen eye, his mind edging back toward impossible, unfulfillable fantasy again. What would she feel like beneath his hand? Soft and warm, or hard and sultry? If he caressed her, would she-

"Your name," she continued, interrupting his thoughts again. "Killian. You don't use that anymore, either. "

He stared at her for a minute, conflicted. He wondered what he should tell her, or how much. Did any of it matter? In a matter of minutes, they would free Neal, and Emma's attention would be elsewhere. His life, his past...of what interest could it be to her after that?

It was for that reason, perhaps, above all others, that he said, "I always use my name, love. Just because I respond to "Hook" doesn't mean I favor the name."

Her green eyes glimmered with interest, and she took a step toward him. It was such a small step, he almost missed it. He wasn't even certain that she was aware of it, herself. He shifted against the tree he leaned against, uncertain.

"You don't like being called Hook?"

He considered the question, weighing it in his mind. "I suppose I did, once. For a long time, actually. The name reinforced my purpose in life, kept it at the forefront of my mind for three hundred years. And it took on a life and reputation of its own, which isn't a bad thing when you consider the role of villain that I'd taken on for myself. Saved me the headache of a lot of unnecessary fights when I had more important things to do as I plotted my revenge."

She opened her mouth to reply, but Mary-Margaret walked over and said breathlessly, "They're ready. Devin's going to open the cages."

"Oh. Thanks," Emma responded. "We'll be right over." She glanced over at him as Mary-Margaret returned to the others. "I-I guess we should, um..."

"After you, love," he said tonelessly, letting her fall into step in front of him. He followed, picking his way through the brush with care, one eye always scanning the area around Emma for any sign of Pan or his Lost Boys. He would gladly take an arrow and spare her the experience of being poisoned with the Dreamshade that her father had fallen victim to, if it would spare her the fate of being trapped on this godsforsaken island forever.

"All right," Emma said when they reached the others again, "so what's the deal? How do we get them open?" She tilted her head back, giving the cages a considering look.

"Magic," the lost boy answered. "That's what you need me for."

"I don't understand," Emma said. "Won't that draw Pan right to us? And why do we need you, then? Can't we just use Regina?"

"The cages require white magic to open them," Devin said with an expression that Killian knew was a shade too patient to be genuine. "Something your queen wouldn't know anything about."

Regina glared, and the lost boy smirked.

"So, what? Pan can't sense white magic or something? Why would the type of magic make any difference at all?" She glanced at Hook. "I thought you said all the magic left Neverland."

"Aye," he said, "it has. If Pan is using magic, he didn't get it from here. He must have another source, something that is not from this island." He gestured toward the two cages hanging above them, using his hook. "And I believe the answer to that source may be in one of those cages."

"None of this makes any sense," Emma protested. "We need white magic to open the cages, and Neverland is void of magic, but Pan just happens to have a source of magic to seal these cages to begin with?" She glared at Devin. "This smells like the worst kind of trap," she spat. "Regina, get his heart out! I want some real answers, and I want them now.

"Be happy to!" she responded with a bright smile, reaching for the satchel slung over her shoulders. "So. What shall we start with first?" she wondered conversationally. "A slow, steady squeeze, or a hard, crushing blow? I prefer the crushing blow, myself. What it lacks in finesse, it makes up for in results."

"This isn't a trap," the lost boy argued.

"Oh yeah?" David spoke up skeptically. "Then you had better start talking fast."

"It's Wendy," he muttered. "He gets the magic from her. That's part of the reason he's kept her around Neverland for so long. He makes her set the seal on the cages. He can't get in, because it isn't Neverland magic, but neither can anyone else. And it's white magic because that's all Wendy uses. She doesn't know any dark magic. Pan never lets her near anything that might corrupt her."

"I'm sensing a really sick and twisted backstory, here," Emma muttered. "If no one else can get in those cages because of the foreign white magic, how are you supposed to help? I thought you said you could open them."

"I can. Wendy trusts me. So does Pan. That's how I've been able to learn it from her. I'm not from Neverland, either. We knew each other in London, long before this all started. I was a friend of John's."

"As compelling as all this drama is," Regina interrupted sarcastically, "can we get started with all of this before Pan comes back and decides to move the cages? Or sends someone else to find out what happened to _him_?" She gestured toward the lost boy.

"She's right," Killian decided. Emma flashed him a strange look. "We'll have plenty of time to revisit the past aboard my ship, after we rescue Henry." He looked up at the cages, one of which held the man that had the power to take away his future, his hope, just after he'd discovered it again. He glanced at Emma. "Let's rescue your Neal."


	4. Chapter 4

Emma watched Devin approach the lowered cages, hoping they had not all fallen for some elaborate trap of Pan's. The last time she had seen Neal, he had fallen through a portal after sustaining a gunshot wound. She had thought him dead, and she had not even mourned him as she would have liked, amidst their mission to rescue her son. She felt guilty for that, and at the same time betrayed; he was not dead at all. Once again, Neal had hurt her, brought her pain. She knew it was unintentional. They had both assumed he would not make it; that was why they had so openly confessed their feelings to each other. But Emma wondered now if those feelings would be the same when she saw him face to face.

Devin knelt by the cage on the left. His actions were somewhat obscured from her vantage point, but from the way Regina watched him with laser precision as she hovered nearby, Emma knew that the evil queen was absorbing every word and action, probably as much to add the knowledge to her own magical repertoire as to ensure that he did not screw all of them over. And Hook, well...she doubted the Captain would suffer to see the lost boy deceive them either. She didn't know what to make of the veiled threats he had used to intimidate the lost boy, but she felt certain that, whatever his motives in taking charge of Devin and Wendy, she had the pirate's loyalty in helping her to recover her son.

The real question, of course, was why. What was his motivation? He had never shown any particular interest or concern for her son prior to Henry's kidnapping. Of course, Hook's entire focus after his arrival in Storybrooke had been on finding a way to wreak his revenge on Gold, but Emma found it difficult to imagine that Hook would have taken any real notice of her son if he had not been kidnapped. The pirate did not exactly strike her as the fatherly type. Still, what of this Milah person he had mentioned? They must have been serious, for him to have reacted the way he did when Emma had inquired about his tattoo. Had they never had any children?

_Click_. Emma felt the residual magic ripple through her as Devin unlocked the first cage and eased the door open. Nervous, she craned her neck to view the occupant inside, but the form that crawled out of the cage was taller, with much darker hair than Neal's. He wore a filthy, ragged shirt that Emma supposed might have been white many years ago, but was now only a dingy grey. His feet were bare, and the right knee of his black trousers had a long, uneven hole, as if he had ripped it on something sharp. If it had not been for the garish red belt he wore around his waist, Emma might have mistaken him for Neverland's resident homeless person.

Rubbing at his disheveled hair, the man's clear blue eyes lit up when he saw Hook. "Jones!" he cried, clapping the other pirate on the shoulder. "What are you doing here?"

"One might ask the same of you," Hook replied with a frown. "As I recall, I warned you to stay clear of the island and sail back the way you came, but it seems you didn't listen."

"Mermaids," the stranger said shortly. "Had to beach my ship, and a storm tore it apart on the rocks. Nowhere else to go but stay on shore."

"I gather you two know each other?" David said, looking from one to the other, as Devin began the process of opening the second cage.

"Yes," said the stranger, at the same time Hook replied, "Not especially."

"So which is it?" Mary-Margaret wanted to know. "And who are you?"

"Forgive me, my name is Eric," the man said with a formal bow that raised several eyebrows.

"Prince Eric?" Mary-Margaret said with a gasp, stepping forward. She circled the prince, staring at him as if she were seeing him in a new light. "Ariel's prince?"

"Ariel?" he echoed, looking at her sharply. "You know her?"

"Know her?" Mary-Margaret said with a delighted laugh, and a look of intense hope in her eyes. "We were friends. I was with her, I-"

_Click_. Magic rippled through Emma again, and she took a step backward as the door to the second cage swung open. Neal crawled out cautiously, looking disheveled, but not nearly as worse for the experience as Prince Eric. He straightened, taking in his surroundings, and noticed Emma. Before she could blink, she was engulfed in his strong arms, and he was saying things to her in whispered exclamations. Things she only half understood, but sensed to be affectionate and relieved.

"I'm glad you're alive," she managed, after he released her. Neal frowned, as if sensing that Emma did not wholly return his enthusiasm for their reunion. "How did you get here? We thought you were dead."

"Mulan and Aurora helped me," he said. "We traveled to my father's residence, and I used some of his things to travel here. I needed to get back to you and Henry."

"You were in the Enchanted Forest?" Mary-Margaret said. "How did you get there?"

"I'm not certain that I understand that myself," he admitted, "but I think it had something to do with my thoughts before I arrived there."

"What do you mean?"

"It's a long story," he said. "I would be happy to tell it you, but right now, we need to find a way to go get Henry."


End file.
